Hot Head and Cold Feet
by FoxPhile
Summary: Waige is having a heat wave. This is a little idea that came into my head as I'm suffering through the first heat wave of the summer.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Hot Head and Cold Feet**

 **Summary:** _ **Waige is having a heat wave. This is a little idea that came into my head as I'm suffering through the first heat wave of the summer.**_

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own** _ **/scorpion**_ **. This story is for entertainment purposes only. I make no profit and no infringement of copyrights is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

* * *

Paige dropped her shoulder bag on the desk and waved a quick hello to Sylvester before heading for the stairs.

"Paige!" the mathematical genius called as he stood and rushed around his desk to follow her. The liaison stopped and turned. The look of annoyance on her face caused Sly to stop abruptly, nearly losing his balance. "Walter…uh…" he began nervously, "Walter just went up there to shower. He said he needed to do that before you got here."

Paige sighed and dropped her arm, which she'd been holding up high to keep the outfit she carried from touching the ground. Sly swept in and quickly took the garments from her, before they could contact the always slightly dirty garage floor. The building was so old that even a Roomba running 24/7 couldn't keep up with the dust and dirt that seemed to fall perpetually from the ceiling or blow in every time someone opened a door.

"Thanks, Sly," Paige responded in a tired, but grateful voice. "I suppose I can't fault him for wanting to use his own facilities, but I was really looking forward to a shower of my own!"

"I'm…I'm sure he'll be down in just a minute," Sly assured her as he took the clothing and hung it from a nail that jutted out from one of the support columns. "Why don't you… why don't you sit down while you wait and I'll get you a nice, cold drink?"

"Oh, thanks, Sly. If I can't have a cold shower a cold drink will be the next best thing. Although I may just dump it over my head."

"Still no luck with the A/C repair?"

"No." Paige took the water bottle from Sly and immediately lay the chilly plastic against her neck. "And of course this has to happen during the worst heat wave to hit L.A. in years. I'm just glad Ralph is visiting his dad this week. If he were here I think I'd have to get us a hotel."

"Are you sure you don't want me to take a look?" Walter asked as he came down the stairs, his still damp curls hanging limply above his collar. A few drops dampened the dark cotton of his shirt. "Air Conditioner technology is not very complex. I'm sure I could find the problem and fix it for you."

Paige stood and grabbed her clothing from where Sly hung it. She paused just a moment on her way to the stairs to briefly plant a peck on her boyfriend. "Thank you, I appreciate the offer; and I know you could probably fix it. But if I let anyone so much as breathe on the unit, it voids my homeowner's warranty. I don't want to have to come to you guys for everything that goes wrong." She then made her way swiftly up the stairs to use Walter's shower.

* * *

Walter got a cup of coffee and made his way to his desk. The genius usually preferred to enjoy his first cup in the quiet of his upstairs home while he spent an hour working on his private projects. But Paige's condo had been without air conditioning for three nights now. She came to the garage dressed in light shorts and a tank top and carrying her clothing so that, as she put it, she would not be "dripping sweat and staining her good clothes" before she even left home. She would then shower and change in Walter's loft while he began his day downstairs instead.

Walter was surprised at his own reaction to her appearance that first morning. She was wearing a pair of cutoff shorts that had bits of torn threads hanging down and brushing the tops of her thighs. The thin tank top she wore clung snugly to the outline of her breasts. While not soaked, the top was, indeed, very damp and it was quite clear that she wore nothing at all underneath the thin knit.

After Paige explained her appearance, begged to use his shower and proceeded up the stairs, Walter went to the rest room to adjust his trousers. The mere sight of her hadn't aroused him fully, but it was enough to make him uncomfortable. He remained in the rest room for several minutes until the problem subsided of its own accord. He'd resorted to reciting the periodic table to avoid the image of Paige reappearing in his head.

"Walter?" Sly approached him, thankfully distracting him from the memory of that image before the issue repeated itself.

"Walter!" Sly repeated, inexplicably jerking his head in the direction of the stairs.

"What?" Walter asked. "Does Paige need something? I didn't hear her call down. Does she need towels?"

"No!" his brother urged in a stage whisper. "She needs your help with her air conditioning problem!"

Walter stared back quizzically. "I don't know how I can help her. She's refused to let me fix the unit because of her concern about breaking the terms of her insurance policy. I could sneak over there and fix it anyway, but I doubt she would appreciate that."

Sylvester moved to sit in a chair next to Walter's desk, and leaned over to continue in an even lower whisper. "Can't you think of some other way to help? At least until her A/C is working again?" It was obvious the man was trying to drop a broad hint, but Walter was not picking up.

"I have no idea what you're trying to get at, Sly. If I cannot fix her A/C, what else can I possibly do?"

Walter turned back to examine the code on his laptop screen. He really wasn't looking at it though. He was wondering what it was that Sly wanted him to do for Paige and why he had no idea what it might be. Granted, his brother-in-law – his brother – had been married. But the marriage was fleetingly short. As always, the thought of his sister's shortened life gave Walter a moment of sadness, although more frequently now he was able to quickly refocus his thoughts on her amazing ability to conjure happiness out of every moment that was granted to her. She'd bestowed that happiness on Sly, as well. Walter understood that better now.

The younger man sighed dramatically, then leaned in closer. "You could invite her to stay here, where it's cool," he suggested. "She probably isn't getting any sleep at all at her place."

Walter twisted back to face the other man. "She won't get any sleep here, either. I don't have a guest room."

"A g..guest…" Sly stuttered. "But you're…you two…aren't you?"

Walter glared at his friend a moment, but then softened. He supposed it was a reasonable assumption.

* * *

Nearly four months had passed since Walter found Paige in Lake Tahoe. He'd driven through the night, arriving at four o'clock in the morning. It took all his willpower not to ignore the early hour and pound on their hotel door, but some part of him – some part that apparently had a touch of functioning EQ – realized Paige would not be pleased at the scene that would create. Instead he'd waited outside the front door of the hotel, until the two came out just before nine. Exhausted and sleep deprived, he'd stumbled out of his car, walked up to the pair and immediately blurted, "Paige, I love you. I've been an idiot. Please come home with me?"

Their response was beyond the last thing he expected.

"Ha, ha!" Tim chortled, nearly doubling over, then extended a hand, palm up, towards Paige.

Paige starred a moment at Walter, then turned to look at Tim, then down at his hand, then back up at Walter. Finally, she pulled the purse out of her bag, took out a twenty dollar bill and slapped it into the Navy Seal's palm.

"I hope you're happy!" she exclaimed, although to this day Walter wasn't sure whom she was addressing. She'd stomped off, without any explanation.

"You better go after her," Tim advised, pocketing the money. "She's not mad at you, she's just sore she lost our bet. I'm sure if you catch her… and maybe tell her again… she'll be in your arms before you can say Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious."

Walter turned back to look at the man he'd practically thrown at the love of his life. "Super… what?"

"Never mind," Tim insisted, gripping Walter's shoulders and turning him around. "GO. AFTER. HER."

Tim gave Walter a little shove and Walter took a jerky step in the direction Paige had gone. He took another step. Then he was running. He was so tired he wasn't sure he was even breathing, but his legs were pumping and within moments he reached Paige. Before he could stop himself he stumbled on a ripple in the asphalt and sprawled directly in front of her, effectively bringing her forward march to an abrupt halt.

"Walter!" she cried. Kneeling down she began to inspect him, placing a hand gently on one shoulder. "Are you all right? Do you think anything is broken?"

"Just any vestige of dignity I had left," he groaned as he turned over. Sitting up, he brushed his palms together, wincing as the dirt and gravel clinging to his skin aggravated the nasty scrapes. His pants, he concluded, were ruined as he fingered a gaping tear on one knee. The knee in question was bleeding sluggishly, and he was fairly sure he would walk with a slight limp for a day or two. "Nothing a large, economy size of Neosporin won't take care of." he muttered.

"You're sure?" she asked again, concern and the ghost of a laugh battling to take over her features.

Walter nodded, continuing to carefully examine his clothes and exposed skin for damage. Paige turned until she was sitting beside him on the still cool asphalt. She draped her arms around her raised knees.

"So then, maybe you should try this again. Why is it you're here, Walter?"

Walter stopped his assessment of the physical damages and turned to look at the woman sitting next to him. Her hair was pulled back into a casual pony tail and she was wearing silver earrings. He was amused to realize the dangling charms were representations of the DNA double helix and recalled Ralph had given those to his mother for Christmas.

"I think I made that very, embarrassingly clear," he mused.

"Yeeesss," she drawled. "I suppose you did, at that."

"So then the question isn't what am I doing here," Walter continued. "The question is, will you be staying with Tim, or will you come back with me?"

Paige leaned back, then looked up into the sky. Walter assumed she was trying to think of a way to let him down gently. She might not love him, but he knew she would never want to hurt him. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised at her rejection. He'd rejected her repeatedly. In the end he'd actually pushed her into another man's arms. He could only blame himself if she chose to stay with the handsome, outgoing, "normal" Tim. He turned back to his contemplation of his ruined slacks, not wanting to see the look in her eyes when she finally told him.

The next thing he knew, her face was in front of his. She was smiling and moving very, very slowly closer. When she was just centimeters away, Walter realized what she was planning, although he wasn't entirely sure he believed it. He also realized she was giving him every opportunity to back away. This was something he'd never been comfortable with – Paige knew that. Paige didn't know how affected he'd been the last time this happened, when she'd saved his life. Still less did she know the impact of the time before that. He was intensely uncomfortable, but he didn't think he could back away if his life were at stake. And perhaps – it was.

With a sudden impulse, Walter decided that if he could drive 450 miles to tell Paige he loved her, he could move another couple of centimeters. He leaned forward and met her lips with his.

Her lips were soft, and tasted of the coffee she drank every morning. Walter was surprised at how different this kiss was from their previous kisses. He realized that every bit of discomfort fell away the moment their lips touched. In fact, this **was** comfort. It was warmth, and peace and… home. He never wanted to leave.

Walter reached up, putting one hand behind Paige's head as the other arm went around her back and urged her closer. What had been a sweet, comfortable kiss was deepening. He opened his mouth, and nipped lightly on her upper lip so that when she responded he swept his tongue in to explore the warm, moist depth of her. Too soon, though, she was the one who pulled away.

"Hey," she said. "Let's go home."

* * *

July 8, 2016


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Hot Head and Cold Feet**

 **Summary:** _ **Waige is having a heat wave. This is a little idea that came into my head as I'm suffering through the first heat wave of the summer.**_

 **Author's Note: I got one of the most amazing responses of my life for Chapter 1 of this story, so thank you SO MUCH, WeBuiltThePyramids – you made my year. {hug} I only hope this chapter doesn't disappoint by comparison.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own** _ **/scorpion**_ **. This story is for entertainment purposes only. I make no profit and no infringement of copyrights is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

* * *

" _A g..guest…" Sly stuttered. "But you're…you two…aren't you?"_

Walter returned from his memories to the question his friend posed. Even Walter, socially challenged as he was, realized that Sly would never ask such a question under normal circumstances. He supposed that the intrusive query from the normally sensitive man was provoked by simple surprise. Still, Walter saw no reason not to answer, although he needed to be sure it didn't open the door for more intimate discussions. He had no idea if his friend and his sister had ever… and he had no desire to know.

"I believe what you're asking falls under the umbrella of gentlemen not kissing and telling; however, the fact is that no, we haven't…. not yet," Walter admitted, candidly. "The um… the subject hasn't been addressed."

"Oh," was the only response.

The two fell silent for a moment, then Sly stood up to return to his own area, where he'd been tinkering with the ever present formulas on his chalkboard. He took only a few steps before he turned again.

"Still… you could sleep on the couch."

Walter looked up once more and nodded. He'd already come to that conclusion himself, and was inwardly thrashing himself for not thinking of it earlier. What sort of boyfriend was he if he allowed Paige to suffer in the heat for three nights when he could provide her a comfortable place to sleep? Even if it meant he spent the nights on either of the sofas, neither of which was quite long enough to accommodate his frame. Surely a thoughtful man would have offered accommodation immediately. Walter determined to remedy the oversight at his first opportunity and endeavor to be more thoughtful in similar circumstances in the future. In the meantime, berating himself about it now was inefficient and distracting.

After a few more minutes of staring blankly at his laptop and accomplishing nothing, Walter stood and walked towards the stairs. He'd been right in his assumptions that this romance business could be disruptive.

He stood at the bottom of the stairs, head cocked, listening for the sound of running water. He didn't want to walk in on Paige if she was still getting dressed, but he also knew from experience over the last few days that she could take quite some time to complete her morning routine. In the future, when the two of them lived together, he would have to make sure they had separate bathrooms. He supposed he'd have to move, which was inevitable anyway, since Ralph would need a room of his own. He'd miss the convenience of living over the garage, though.

Coming to a decision, he bounded up the stairs two at a time. When he reached the top, he paused in the small area that was shielded from the rest of the apartment by a bookcase. "Paige?" he called, not sure what he would say when the answer came.

"Walter?" Paige answered, a note of surprise in her voice. "I'm almost finished."

Walter dithered. Should he wait until she was done and came downstairs? Or should he ask if she was presentable enough for him to intrude? He decided that what he wanted to discuss would be easier in the relative privacy of his apartment, especially since Toby and Happy would be arriving at any moment.

"Would it…um…would it be okay if I come in?"

"Of course, Walter. It _**is**_ your home."

He hesitated still. Maybe Paige didn't fully understand the real point of his inquiry?

"Come _**in**_ , Walter. I'm fully dressed. I'm just having a problem with my shoes."

Walter made his way past the bookcase and the kitchen. "There's something…um… something personal…that I'd like to um…to talk to you about," he stammered, wanting to let her know that he was on the way in. He glanced around the living area, and into his corner office, but saw no sign of Paige. It wasn't until he was nearly in the middle of the apartment that he could see into the bedroom where Paige was sitting on his neatly made bed, fumbling with the straps of a sandal.

Without warning, a scene from one of Walter's more vivid dreams came to him. In it, Paige was sitting on his bed – but the bedclothes were rumpled all around her. She sat nearly in the middle, her back up against a pile of pillows, holding a sheet modestly up under her arms. Her hair was wildly mussed, and although his dreams – what he remembered of them anyway – never included the activity that caused her tousled look, he had no misconceptions about it. He woke from those dreams with a mingled sense of elation and disappointment – and sometimes with a rather uncomfortable morning erection. He really hoped his dream memories would give him an inkling of what to expect from the experience, but they never did.

He willed the image away and approached the bed.

"I…I should have done this… asked you… days ago."

Paige was looking up at him now and had stopped working on the strap of her sandal. Walter gulped, reminding himself that he could sleep on the couch. This was nothing more than one friend helping out another. The fact that the friend in question could make his heart pound when she was fully clothed, and he had no idea how he would stay on the aforementioned couch when he knew she was mere steps away in his bed - that was immaterial.

"If um… if you would like to stay here… at night I mean… until your A/C is fixed. Well… that is, I'd like you to… I mean I'll sleep on the couch, you can stay in here. By yourself."

Paige smiled broadly and sighed. "If you're sure you're okay with it," she replied. "I confess I nearly asked you myself, but I didn't know how you would feel about it, and I didn't want to make you feel like you were obliged to…"

"No, no," he insisted, running a hand through his hair. He really was an idiot. Here she'd been suffering because she didn't want him to be uncomfortable. "You can ask me for anything, anytime," he insisted. "I'm happy for you to come sleep in my bed." Walter paused a moment, then his eyes widened, shocked at what he'd just said. "I mean…I didn't mean to imply…"

Paige was grinning broadly now. "No implication taken, Walter. I know what you mean. And thank you. Honestly, I can't wait to get a good night's sleep." She paused a moment, looking up at him; a quizzical look on her face. Then she shook her head slightly and went back to the strap on her sandal. "Now if I can just get this dang thing unbuckled I can get to work. I've got to get the invoices out for that security job we did last week."

Walter watched her for a moment. He nearly turned to go back downstairs, then thought better of it. If there was one thing he'd learned in the last few months from this amazing woman it was that they could talk about anything. She made no judgments. As someone who spent most of his life being judged by other people as "odd" or "weird" simply because his brain worked differently, it was something he still found nearly miraculous. If he believed in miracles, Paige Dineen was one. He sat down on the bed beside her, close but not actually touching.

"Paige," he began quietly. "Does it ever bother you, that I don't… that I haven't… tried to get you into bed?"

Paige settled her arms in her lap, the sandal dangling from her fingers. "It doesn't _**bother**_ me precisely, although I do sometimes wonder." She looked up at him, turning slightly and setting the sandal beside her on the bed. "I think if you didn't say… or do… something soon, I probably would have asked you about it. I know you're not comfortable with touch, so I was wondering if… have you ever had sex, Walter?"

Walter was surprised to realize that Paige was the uncomfortable one now. Usually, it seemed she could discuss anything without a blink. Curiously, having broached the subject, he found he was not at all nervous about it now.

"I have," he affirmed, "but not often and… not recently."

"I see," was her only reply.

They sat in silence for a short while. Walter knew he should explain things to her more fully, but for the moment he didn't know quite how. He reached out and picked up one of her hands, holding it between his own. "I don't mind _**your**_ touch, you know. I actually like it, quite a lot, in fact. It feels… different. Ever since we kissed in Lake Tahoe, touching you feels like… like it's where I belong."

She looked up again at that. "Then I really don't understand why…"

Walter took a long breath, hoping what he was about to say would make sense.

"It's because I want to be the same thing for you… I want to be the place where you belong. But my past experiences… well, they relieved some tension but that's the best I can say about them. I'm afraid the same thing might happen with you and… I'm… I don't want that. But I have no idea how to ensure that it… that it's different… for us."

Paige twined the fingers of the hand he was holding with his. She placed her other hand on his thigh. Walter knew she rarely touched him first, nearly always waiting for him to make the overtures. He hoped what he just said would make her realize that she could.

"I don't think we can expect things to be perfect at first," she was saying. "I'm not exactly an expert, but I think things are usually a bit awkward at first, with any couple. I only have the one experience to draw on though."

Walter started. "You mean… you and Tim… you didn't?" Then he flushed. He really had no right to ask that.

"Did you and Linda?" she asked, arching one eyebrow.

"No," he admitted. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that. I was just sort of… surprised. I mean you're… you're beautiful. I just figured someone…"

"Well, there were some opportunities. But after Drew left, I was raising Ralph on my own and working two jobs. Even if there was time, I really didn't have the energy for anyone else. I didn't really want anyone else. Not until 9-22-2014." She smiled. "Ralph isn't the only one who thinks that's a very important date."

"No, he's not." Walter agreed.

Paige gently rubbed his thigh, then patted it affectionately. "Perhaps we can continue this conversation tonight. Or not, if you don't want to. I hear Toby and Happy downstairs and if we don't get down there soon, Toby will turn on the intercom hoping to catch us doing something he's sure we're doing that we're not…yet."

"Happy wouldn't let him."

"No, she wouldn't. But I'd rather not have him injured in the attempt. Try explaining _**that**_ on a Worker's Compensation form!"

She rose, and Walter reluctantly released her hand. He gathered up the discarded sandal. "What about your shoe?"

"I give up on the thing. I'll just wear my sneaks. Note to self – pack extra pairs of shoes before I come over tonight."

Walter liked the sound of that. He picked the other sandal up off the floor and took the pair over to his closet, where he slid them into an empty slot in the shoe tree. Then he followed Paige downstairs.

* * *

July 9, 2016


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: Hot Head and Cold Feet**

 **Summary:** _ **Waige is having a heat wave. This is a little idea that came into my head as I'm suffering through the first heat wave of the summer.**_

 **Author's Note – This was supposed to be one chapter, maybe two. It's grown. There will be just one more chapter after this one. I'm going to try and post that one today or tomorrow.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own** _ **/scorpion**_ **. This story is for entertainment purposes only. I make no profit and no infringement of copyrights is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

* * *

It had been a quiet week for Scorpion and it seemed like it was going to end on a quiet note. Working with Homeland Security, it wasn't often that the team got an entire week without drama, but Walter was pleased that this week was turning out that way.

After his talk with Paige that morning, he'd been unable to focus on anything else.

Since they'd become a couple, it wasn't uncommon for him to glance up occasionally from his desk in the garage and just look at her. He'd done it before, but now he was more comfortable admitting to himself that he did it and the reason why. He just liked looking at her. She was always busy; either dealing with the mounting paperwork that came with a growing, successful business, or discussing jobs with clients and prospective clients on the phone. When she wasn't working directly with business matters, she was studying. Walter was proud of Paige's continued efforts to complete a degree. Although her concentration was on business management courses, Walter recently suggested that she occasionally include a course in the arts in her curriculum. He knew she loved art and music and theater, and he'd recently developed a greater appreciation for pursuing a variety of interests and even frivolous pastimes. When Ralph returned from visiting Drew, Walter had a surprise for him. He and Sylvester planned to take the boy to a comic book convention, where they would meet the creators behind Super Fun Guy and several of the other comics and video games that Ralph – and Sylvester – loved.

Sometimes, Paige would look up from her own work and meet his eyes. Before Lake Tahoe, Walter would quickly return his focus to his own work. But now, having given himself permission to indulge, he saw no reason to hide that indulgence from its object. She would smile; sometimes she would add a wink, which Walter found utterly adorable – an expression that never entered his vocabulary until recently.

As he was looking at her now, Paige rose, caught his eye and walked over to his desk. "I'm starving. You ready for lunch?"

Walter checked the clock on his laptop and nodded. He closed the lid and grabbed his keys. Standing, he called to the rest of the team, "Paige and I are going to lunch. We'll be back in about an hour."

Toby snorted and Happy glared at the behaviorist, while Sly just waved, his focus never leaving his chalkboard. Walter was well aware that Toby assumed his frequent midday outings with Paige were really to satisfy an appetite that had nothing to do with food. After the talk this morning, Walter experienced a frisson of excitement at the thought that, one day soon, Toby might actually be right. After that talk, Walter had been able to think of little else all morning.

Thank goodness it was a quiet week.

* * *

Lunch together quickly became a habit for Walter and Paige, anytime they weren't deeply involved in a case and thus able to get away for an hour or two. Before starting this relationship, Paige believed she knew Walter O'Brien as well as any human could. Looking back, she was probably right, but during their lunches - often the only time they had when they were truly alone - she learned so much more about him.

One thing she had always known was that Walter didn't deal well with broken trust. That was an area where he could easily hold a grudge. She knew she had to say what she was about to say, especially in light of the turn she hoped their relationship was on the brink of taking, but she was deeply concerned about the potential fallout.

The liaison had been picking at her food. She was normally a healthy eater – both in the strength of her appetite and her food choices. But in light of their discussion this morning, she felt the need for comfort food, so she was staring at a plate full of French fries and a cheeseburger. Sadly, her unease made it impossible to enjoy the meal. Not that this morning's discussion made her uncomfortable. If anything, she was glad that her fears that she and Walter might never enjoy a physical relationship were put to rest somewhat. It remained to be seen if Walter would get past the last of his issues related to that, but Paige was confident that he had been honest with her. Walter might keep something to himself for a while – he wasn't always the most forthcoming man about his feelings and issues – but when he did tell her something, it was always the truth, sometimes disconcertingly so.

Walter's honesty made her feel that she needed to respond in the same way. Not that she wasn't usually honest. Honesty was a quality she valued. She knew from hard experience that it was vital to a healthy relationship. She realized, however, that the motivations behind some of her decisions in recent days weren't completely honest. In fact, she'd done something that she normally disdained.

"Walter?" Paige began, her voice quavering just above a whisper. "Walter," she repeated, "I have something… something I should confess."

Walter swallowed the salad he'd been chewing and put down his fork. They recently had a discussion about the importance of paying attention when one's partner had something to say and he was diligent about practicing. "Um…" he grinned. "Should I put on my priest's collar?"

Paige starred, wide-eyed. Walter almost never made jokes and when he did, they were usually couched in something scientific and therefore not very funny. It took a moment for Paige to recall that he was raised in a heavily Catholic society. While he might not practice the religion, he'd undoubtedly absorbed some of its culture. Then she smiled herself, aware that while the unexpected witticism took her off-guard, it also put her more at-ease. She wasn't about to admit to murder, after all.

"About the air-conditioning thing? I've been using that to… well, one reason I didn't want you to fix it is because I was hoping it would be an excuse for us to spend the night together." She rushed on, words tumbling out like cereal being poured out of a box. "Since Ralph is with Drew, I was going to see if you wanted to spend the night at my place, but then I didn't know how you would feel about that, and with your touch issues, I just figured this was something where I should let you take the lead, so I didn't ask you."

The nerves were coming back. Paige looked down at her place setting and picked up her unused fork, twirling it in her fingers. "Then when the A/C died, it seemed like it was meant to be – I know you don't believe in that sort of thing – but I really hoped you would invite me to stay and it would be a chance for us to get comfortable just being together without it meaning that we would… would…"

"Have sex," Walter finished for her.

"Right," she agreed. She made herself raise her eyes back up to the man sitting across from her, her fingers still nervously twirling the fork. She was determined to own this, and whatever consequences there might be. "I hate that I did that. It's not normally something I do. If you would rather I not come over tonight, I'll understand. I can just get a hotel until the A/C gets fixed."

"Is there really a clause in your warranty?" Walter asked.

Paige nodded. She was trying to discern if he was angry, but for once, her boyfriend's normally expressive face was an unreadable blank. "There is. It says only the contractors authorized by the insurance company are allowed to fix any of the major appliances, the HVAC systems or plumbing. I can do simple upkeep things, like changing filters or using a plunger to unclog the toilet. Anything else has to go through the insurance company. The problem is the heat wave has apparently caused a backlog of work for them. All their contractors are booked until early next week. I called them today and they said the earliest they could send someone out would be Monday."

When Walter didn't respond, Paige resigned herself to the fact that she might have dealt a serious blow to their fledgling relationship. Obviously, any breach of trust was serious in his eyes. She felt sure the rift could be repaired – after all, Walter had forgiven Cabe for Baghdad, surely he didn't view this in the same light – but it was likely to take time.

"I'll get a hotel for tonight and the weekend," she continued. "It's okay. I actually really enjoy staying in hotels occasionally. I've always wanted an excuse to spend a night in one of the really nice hotels in town, so I might even splurge on that, for one night at least. It could be fun." She knew she wouldn't enjoy it, though.

"You didn't actually lie, then," Walter interrupted.

Paige slowly shook her head. "No…but…"

"No buts. You didn't lie. I'm not saying I like that you felt you had to… well… maneuver me into something when you could have just asked. But I feel I'm at least a little at fault, since I should have offered to let you stay right from the start. Hopefully, I'll get better with time and practice. If you can forgive me for being a thoughtless idiot, I'm not going to hold a grudge for a teeny bit of manipulation."

Walter reached a hand across the table, took the fork from her fingers and set it back down. Then he took her hand in his and drew it back towards him until they rested comfortably near the middle.

" _Ego te absolvo."_

"What?"

"It's what the priests say in confession. In Ireland, some of the older priests still do – or at least they did when I was a kid. It means 'I absolve you' or 'I forgive you'." He smiled down at their joined hands, then continued, allowing his Irish accent to come through. "They usually don't play patty-fingers with the penitent, though."

Paige laughed, relieved. She'd only heard Walter's Irish once before. They were spending a rare evening alone while Toby and Happy took Ralph to an amusement park – Toby had said something about the kid needing to do normal 'kid' things instead of the science projects that were Walter's usual notion of a family outing. Walter allowed Paige to indulge in her love for romantic movies while they shared a pizza. It was near the end, when the handsome guy professed his love for the beautiful woman, that Walter leaned over and whispered, " _Mo ghrá thú_ , Paige. I love you - always." Paige was almost certain that, if Toby and the others hadn't returned a few minutes later, there would have been no need for their discussion earlier today.

Paige returned to the present. "I… thank you Walter. I promise, from now on, I'll just ask."

"There isn't much you could do, Paige, that I'm not likely to forgive you. And there isn't much you might ask that I won't be inclined to grant. But now I'm going to ask something of you… will you spend the night with me… and the weekend?"

"I'd love to," she answered.

"Good," he smiled and released her hand, turning back to his salad. "I'll take you over to your place after work so you can pack some things, then we can go out somewhere for dinner, okay?"

"NOT Kovelsky's!" they both chorused together, before dissolving in laughter. Whenever the three of them would go out for a meal after work, Ralph always insisted on going to the diner. The two made a point of eating anywhere else when Ralph wasn't with them.

Paige kept smiling all through the rest of the meal, finishing her cheeseburger and fries with relish.

* * *

 _Mo ghrá thú_ – There are many ways to say "I love you" in Gaelic. This one is used pretty strictly for a spouse or lover. It translates as "My love to you" or "My love is yours".

* * *

July 10, 2016


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: Hot Head and Cold Feet**

 **Summary:** _ **Waige is having a heat wave. This is a little idea that came into my head as I'm suffering through the first heat wave of the summer.**_

 _ **Author's Note: Here it is, the Final Chapter. This one is rated M for decidedly adult activities. Kiddies - go play somewhere else!**_

 _ **Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. And special thanks again to WeBuiltThePyramids for her wonderful support and advice.**_

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own** _ **/scorpion**_ **. This story is for entertainment purposes only. I make no profit and no infringement of copyrights is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

* * *

After making arrangements via his laptop - making sure no one else was peeking - Walter made an excuse to go upstairs to make final preparations. No one else knew about the private, if somewhat odd, exit from the apartment. Even Toby didn't know about the old dumbwaiter in the back of his closet. He hadn't kept it a secret on purpose. It just never seemed like it would be useful. The compartment was cramped, and he'd had to bend over awkwardly, but he was able to sneak out of the garage and return with no one the wiser.

As they'd agreed, he and Paige waited until the team left for the night, everyone wishing each other a great weekend. Toby and Happy – or really just Toby – excitedly announced that they would be spending the weekend house hunting. With an annulment well under way, the pair spent weeks arguing over whose apartment they should move into, until Paige got tired of the bickering and suggested they find a new place together.

The genius hoped what he was doing was okay. In any other circumstances, he would have asked Paige about the acceptability of what he had planned, but in this case, she was the one person he couldn't ask. Neither Sly nor Happy would have a clue and Toby couldn't keep his mouth shut. For some reason, he preferred not to think of what experience Cabe might have in this area. That left Walter to hope he wasn't making a huge mistake.

During the afternoon, he'd tried, unsuccessfully, to come up with a backup plan in case Paige insisted they take her car, but thankfully she didn't protest his offer to drive. They drove the ten minutes to her condo and she spent just a few minutes packing a suitcase. Walter immediately took the bag and stowed it in the trunk quickly to keep her from seeing what else was there. Then they were in the car and within a few minutes, Walter got them onto the I-10 freeway.

"Apparently you have some place in mind for dinner?" Paige asked. "You're obviously not going back to the garage or any of our usual places."

"Nope," he responded. "I thought tonight deserved something a little special. I hope you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind at all. Are you going to tell me where this place is? Or at least let me know if I'm dressed appropriately?"

Walter chuckled. "You're dressed fine. This place is very nice – but also pretty casual. It's pretty much come as you are."

"Oh. Okay. But you're being very mysterious."

"I… I hope that's okay. I just… I want to surprise you."

"No. It's fine. I'm okay with surprises. As long as they don't involve someone jumping at me suddenly."

"I promise," Walter said, raising one hand. "No one will be jumping."

Before long he exited the freeway, and began making his way down a series of residential streets lined with large, beautiful homes. Finally, he turned into a beautifully gated driveway.

"Wait! Wait a minute!" Paige exclaimed. "Walter! This is… this is the Beverly Wilshire! If this is where we're having dinner there's no way I'm dressed right!"

"Relax, Paige," Walter insisted. "There is a place here that's pretty casual. You look fine."

Walter drove up to the valet and stopped the car. A uniformed bellman opened Paige's door and offered his gloved hand to help her get out. Walter popped the trunk and made his way around to the back of the car. Meeting another bellman, he gave his name and whispered to the man that they had a pre-check-in.

"Of course, Mr. O'Brien," the man said as he removed their two bags and placed them on a rolling brass cart.

By this time, Paige was striding purposefully up to Walter. "What are you doing?" she demanded. "I thought we were here for dinner?"

Walter shrugged. He couldn't keep the surprise any longer. "We are. But we're also staying the night here. You said you always wanted to spend the night in one of the nicer hotels. This is the nicest one I could find that had a vacancy. It's not my loft at the garage, but…"

Paige threw her arms around him and made sure Walter wasn't able to say anything for a couple of minutes. In his mind he thought " _Oh…okay_!" but his mouth was too occupied for the words to come out.

"Umm… hmmm," the bellman discretely cleared his throat. "When you're both ready, Mr. O'Brien, Ralph will see you to your room. He has your key and he'll be able to assist you with anything you might need."

Paige pulled back. She turned her head to look at the young man standing beside the cart, a small tag with the name "Ralph" pinned to his immaculate jacket. She turned back to Walter and grinned. "A little hint, Walter. The next time you book us a romantic night at a fancy hotel? I love my son, but I don't want 'Ralph' to come along!"

Confused, Walter looked around frantically for Paige's son, wondering how he could have known they were there. "I don't under…" Then he caught on and began to laugh. Before long the two were bent over laughing and sputtering, to the obvious consternation of the assembled hotel staff.

When he was finally able to calm down, Walter muttered an apology to the valet, gave him the car key and indicated for Paige to follow 'Ralph' in to the hotel. As they passed through the lobby, Paige was looking everywhere, bedazzled by the flowers, the furnishings and the glittering chandeliers.

"Walter," she whispered as they got into the elevator, "Are you crazy? This place must cost a fortune!"

Walter was pleased that he had thoroughly surprised his girlfriend, but the last thing he wanted her to be concerned about was the cost.

"You of all people know how much Scorpion has been making lately – on both our private jobs and the Homeland ones," he assured her. "In case you weren't aware, I don't pay rent. My monthly expenses outside of food are almost negligible. I'm more than able to afford a little… um… monetary indulgence once in a while."

"Little… indulgence… Walter! This is the hotel where they filmed _Pretty Woman_!"

"I um… this is Beverly Hills, so I'm sure they do film pretty women here occasionally but…"

"Oh, Walter!" Paige chuckled.

* * *

The vision was very close to his dream.

For some reason, after they finished their room service dinner, Paige insisted on taking a bubble bath in the marble tub. She spent nearly an hour in there during which she repeatedly sang some song about wanting his extra time and a kiss. Walter was more than willing to kiss her, but not while she was covered in soapy bubbles.

Now she was seated near the center of the bed, leaning back on the piled pillows. She was wrapped – and very well covered – in the plush bathrobe she found in the closet. The bedclothes were not rumpled and her hair fell around her shoulders, a bit damp but not really messy. She was incredibly beautiful… and desirable.

"I'm… just… going to go… um… change," he stuttered, grabbing the night clothes he'd pulled out of his suitcase and heading into the bathroom.

Once alone in the marbled sanctuary, Walter sat on the side of the tub. He made the reservation simply to please Paige – to give her one night in one of the fanciest hotels in Los Angeles, if not the world. There was no intention to do anything but enjoy the room, have dinner, and sleep. They had a king-size bed – surely they could just sleep without doing anything more.

To his great surprise, Walter found he very much _**wanted**_ to do more. He even suspected that he was affected by the… romance of it all – the spontaneity, the intimacy of the meal they'd shared and the excitement of surprising the woman he loved with a fantasy come true.

He knew he loved Paige – but would he be able to show her that love, in a physical way, without making a total mess of things? Maybe it would be better if he resisted his desires tonight. He would do more research over the next few days so that he would really know how to make the experience what it should be – what he wanted it to be – for her.

He stood and began unbuttoning his shirt, carefully hanging it on a hanger. He continued to undress, then donned his nearly new cotton pajamas. Normally, he simply slept in a pair of exercise shorts – or long pants on the rare chilly nights. When he was packing, though, it seemed prudent to dress more modestly for his night with Paige.

* * *

When he returned, Paige was watching something on the television.

"I hope you don't mind. I found out they have _Pretty Woman_ available free all the time. It's honestly not one of my favorite movies. But I want to be able to say I watched it in the hotel where it was made. I kept looking for Hector Elizondo when we were walking through the lobby!"

"We can do whatever you like," Walter responded, glancing at the television. A woman clad in nothing more than underwear was – apparently – seducing a well-dressed man. Temporarily mesmerized by the scene, he couldn't help wondering if Paige had accidently landed on one of the pornography channels Toby insisted were available in all hotels.

When Walter came in the room, he thought he should probably join Paige on the bed – after all, they would just be sitting there – nothing need happen. Although Walter found pornography distasteful, he couldn't deny that the visual stimulation did affect him. If this was the sort of movie Paige wanted to watch, there was no way he could sit that close to her – especially not on a bed – and not want to… to…

Thankfully, the scene on the screen changed to something considerably tamer.

"Walter, are you going to stand there all evening?"

"What?" he turned away from the television and looked at Paige, who had moved to one side of the bed. "No… I… I thi… that is I… I'll get comfortable over here," he stammered as he walked past the bed and settled in a chair.

"Oh… okay," Paige muttered.

Walter could feel her looking at him as he stared at the television. He knew she was disappointed, and he hated himself for that. He simply couldn't get himself to move from the chair, and he could think of no way to explain to her everything that was going through his head at the moment… the desire… the uncertainty… and the fear.

The man on the screen was just saying something about sleeping on the couch. Walter thought he would likely wind up doing the same.

* * *

Preoccupied with his own difficulties, Walter paid little attention to the movie. Paige was fast-forwarding through some of it – he supposed those must be the boring parts. He did notice, however, that while there were still love scenes, they were less provocative and more sensual. He realized that his earlier assumption that the movie was pornographic was incorrect. It still made him uncomfortably aware that Paige was sitting on a bed only steps away, in a robe much like the one Vivian wore in the movie. His mind conjured up images of what Paige might be wearing… or not… underneath.

This must be what the priests meant when they talked about purgatory.

Walter's eyes were drawn back to the screen by yet another love scene. The pair were in bed, kissing – slowly and very sensuously – while the music rose in a passionate crescendo. When Edward took Vivian in his arms and lay her back on the bed, the camera panned so that the couple were partially hidden by some sort of screen. Far from diminishing the impact of the scene, Walter found himself desperately wishing that he was holding Paige in just that way… kissing her and exploring every inch of her with his hands, his lips. Feeling her pressed against him, her warm skin soft and silky next to his own.

"Oh God!" he cried as Vivian slid out of her camisole and Edward moved over her.

"Walter?" Paige queried. "Is everything all right over there?"

He looked over to the bed. She had removed the robe and gotten under the covers. Sitting against the pillows, she held a sheet up under her arms. He could see the straps of a pale silken camisole crossing her shoulders. Her hair was mussed up slightly in the back, where she'd been lying on it.

Not sure how he got there, Walter found himself standing next to the bed, looking down on the only woman he'd ever loved; the only woman he'd ever wanted in this way.

"Walter?" she asked again.

"I… I don't want to sleep with you Paige." Walter paused. That wasn't right. "I mean… I want to sleep with you, but I don't want to just sleep. I want…" He looked back at the screen, hoping that somehow, Edward might give him a clue how to be the romantic lover he wanted to be. He was making a mess of this and he hadn't even started. "I want to love you… I _**do**_ love you. I mean… I want to make love with you, Paige, if… if that would be okay."

"Walter that would be _**so**_ okay."

She was smiling. It wasn't the sort of smile that meant she was really laughing. It was… inviting and… loving. Walter flashed back to that kiss on the asphalt in Lake Tahoe. He'd been incredibly nervous and uncomfortable – afraid that he would react as he so often did to physical touch. But the kiss had been wonderful. He loved kissing Paige. Why did he think this would be any different? This was where he was meant to be – with Paige. He moved the blankets aside, and slid underneath the cool sheet, moving over until he was lying next to her.

She scooted down until they were lying face to face. Walter reached over, combing his fingers through her hair until his hand rested on the nape of her neck. Urging her closer, he slipped his other arm underneath her, then rolled onto his back, lifting her to lay on top of him. Reaching up, he kissed her, reveling once more in the soft warmth of her lips. This was familiar and comfortable, but still exciting. Walter knew that tonight they would not be stopping with kisses. Instead of feeling panic, he felt exhilarating anticipation. He couldn't wait.

Walter drew back and looked up into Paige's eyes. She had one hand on his shoulder, while the other was tucked between them, lightly – almost timidly – stroking his chest through the fabric of his shirt. It was his turn to smile.

"It's okay, Paige. I don't mind if you touch me."

She answered by moving to one side, allowing her fingers to trail across his chest, coming to rest at the top button. "This is… pretty new to me, too, Walter. I keep thinking how long it took us to get here – I mean when you include the time since we first met. I'm scared, too, you know. Scared I'm going to mess something up."

Walter turned again to face her. He found the position a little awkward, as he leaned over to kiss her again. "I have no logical basis for this theory," he assured her, "but I don't think either of us is going to mess this up. We're going to be just fine."

Walter sat up and drew Paige up with him, bringing one of her legs across his until she was sitting on his thighs. Putting a hand on either side of her face, he kissed her softly, teasing and nibbling her lips, lightly licking until she opened to him and he lost himself exploring the sweet cavern of her mouth. He wrapped one arm behind her and gripped a fistful of her hair in his other hand as he moved on to kiss each corner of her mouth, then her chin. Smiling, he playfully reached up to kiss and lick the tip of her nose, then continued working his way down, exploring her neck, and the little dip just above her right collar bone.

Paige was working on the buttons of his pajama top. When the last one was undone, she pushed him back. "I need you to take this off," she said, urgently.

Walter obliged, shrugging out of the shirt. He grasped the hem of Paige's camisole, a question in his eyes. She nodded and he lifted it up while she raised her arms so he could remove it. Grinning, he twirled the garment above his head and flung it across the room.

Turning back, he took in his first full view of her breasts. "Oh God!" he gasped. "You. Are. Beautiful."

He bent down and scattered kisses across the tops of her breasts, moving from side to side across her chest until he came to a stop at one nipple. Pulling it into his mouth, he sucked and licked. One hand cupped the other breast, while he circled that nipple with his thumb.

Paige was drawing her fingers up and down his back, while she rocked her hips against his thighs. He could feel her nipping and sucking on the ridge of his collar bone. Each nip was sending electric shots straight through him.

He reluctantly left the one breast he'd been adoring. He thought for a moment that he really should move to the other breast – trade places so to speak – but he was concerned that his long celibacy would do him a disservice tonight. He needed to move things along. He only hoped he would be able to bring Paige with him.

"I um… I'm not sure…" He wasn't sure what he wanted to say, or what he _**should**_ say. Should he tell her about his concerns and beg her forgiveness in advance if this wasn't everything it should be their first time? Should he ask her what sorts of activities she preferred? What if he did something that she found distasteful?

"Walter?" she stopped kissing him and lifted her head. "Neither of us can be sure of what we're doing right now. For all I know, you might not like having your neck kissed."

"No, no! It's fine – really. It's… amazing… actually."

"Good to know." She grinned and stretching up, placed another quick kiss on the area just below his chin. "My point is, we're both learning about each other. We're going to make mistakes… and not just when it comes to sex. But that's okay, because it's part of the fun, really."

"Making mistakes… it's not something I've ever thought of as fun."

"I know. 'Mister Perfect' is part of who you are. It's part of why I love you because it's part of you. But there's no shame in not knowing – especially when it comes to this. Nowhere on the Internet are you going to find a website on 'What makes Paige happy in bed'. At least I certainly hope not!"

She laughed and he smiled in agreement.

"I um… I'll let you know if I ever find one."

"With a little luck and… um… practice… you'll be able to write it." She grinned, then turned mock-serious. "But you better not!"

He nodded. With his photographic memory he didn't need to even keep notes. He could easily comply with that requirement. "Then… I suppose we should just… experiment… and see how things go?"

"Sure. Just as long as we talk to each other. You tell me the things you like… or don't. And I'll tell you. Before you know it, we'll be doing this like a pair of professionals."

"Professionals?" He glanced at the television screen, where the movie was winding down.

"Not like _**that**_!"

Walter maneuvered Paige back down onto her back. She groaned a bit when he resumed kissing her breasts, then moved down across her belly. He paused at her navel, teasing and licking the knot of flesh the hid within the little crater.

"I want to be sure you… that you… have a good time."

"I'm having a wonderful time, Walter."

"I… you know what I mean."

"I do. That… it doesn't happen easily… or all the time. But you need to know that even if it doesn't happen, I'll be having a good time."

Walter smiled. He knew a challenge when he heard it. More determined than ever, he hooked two fingers in either side of the tiny shorts she wore. He tugged them until they were down around her knees. She finished the job, wiggling until she was able to kick them off. Walter sat up then, needing to get a full view of her. The blush that crept across her features as he gazed at her was endearing… and arousing. It seemed that everywhere he turned he was assaulted with stimuli that were making it difficult not to want to simply plunge into her, although he wasn't completely aroused or ready for that yet. He knew if he allowed it, he would be more than ready in a matter of seconds. He tamped those thoughts down.

"I love you," he breathed.

"I love you, too," she murmured.

The genius was about to venture into unknown territory. The few encounters he had in the past included only the most basic activities. He hoped the research he'd done in the last few months would serve him well.

Scooting on his knees to the bottom of the bed, he moved in between Paige's legs, then lowered himself down, his arms resting on her thighs. He kissed the inside of one knee, then began working his way up her thighs, alternating from one to the other. When he reached his goal, he used his fingers to gently part her folds.

Paige squirmed and squeaked under his attentions. "Walter, I don't…you don't have to."

"I want to," he insisted, then took long, sweeping licks up each side, gradually moving in towards the center. After a few moments, he paused to gently blow on the wet folds. He had thought that this activity would ease his own desire, giving him time to get Paige to come before his need demanded his own release. What he found, however, was that the scent of her, together with the obvious effect he was having, was an intoxicating mix that tightened his balls and was beginning to make him ache. Walter had always prided himself on his ability to control his world. He resolved not to fail in this instance.

He continued licking, alternating between long, slow sweeps and rapid flicks. He reached one hand up to her breast, where his fingers circled and caressed the nipple, still taut from his earlier attentions. He laid the other hand on her belly, the smooth skin like warm velvet, interrupted by occasional imperfections that his fingers danced along, fascinated.

After several minutes of licking and teasing, he wrapped his lips around her little nub and sucked. She grabbed a fistful of hair and jerked her hips so that Walter had to grasp her waist with both hands to keep from losing his hold – or getting his nose smashed. He zeroed in and flicked his tongue rapidly against her clit, which hardened in response. It didn't take a genius to observe that flicking directly on her clit caused Paige to jerk and twist, while more leisurely licks, that traveled the length of her sex, would make her writhe and moan.

"Which do you like better?" he asked. He took another long, slow sweep, then he gave her a few rapid flicks.

"The… the slow… slow. And the fast… I love all of it!"

Walter shrugged. She was very close, he was sure. After a few more gentle, sucking kisses, he made another long sweep. He brought his hand down and inserted one finger into her. Reaching up as far as he could he stroked, seeking the magic spot while his tongue continued circle and caress her clit.

"Walt…Walt…. Waalllllteerrrr!" she gasped, her hips bucking and thrashing so that he had to back away. It didn't matter. Apparently there were some things you could learn on the Internet.

He moved back up beside her, slid one arm under her and pulled her close, kissing her temples and cheeks and nose while the slight tremors even he could feel subsided.

"Oh!" she gasped, "Oh! That was… where did you learn how to _**do**_ that?"

He laughed. "I was just thinking there _**are**_ some things you can learn on the Internet!"

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I've been doing research."

Paige rolled to her side and began stroking his stomach. She kissed him, lightly. "Well, your research certainly paid off." She kissed him again, licking his bottom lip and sucking it in between her teeth as her hand moved down and began to lightly stroke his erection. Walter concentrated on the kiss, carefully nibbling her lips and tracing the outline with his tongue before delving inside. He was trying to divert his attention from the rhythm of her hand, but it wasn't working.

He reached a hand down and took hers, bringing it up to hold it close to his chest. He stopped kissing her and leaned back, waiting until she opened her eyes.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah. I um… I need to be inside you," he rasped, his voice husky with need.

Paige nodded, and, placing both hands against his chest, she rolled him onto his back. Then she rose and straddled him. Reaching between their bodies, she guided him just to her entrance, and waited. Bracing himself with his hands, Walter raised his hips and felt himself slide into her.

He always believed the ultimate moment of sex came at the end – at the mind-blowing, explosive moment of climax. Feeling himself glide into Paige – slipping past her entrance and feeling her warm wetness surround him - well, if it wasn't quite the ultimate moment, it was certainly the penultimate. This… this was another homecoming. This, Walter decided, was a home he never wanted to leave.

When he lowered himself back down, Paige came down with him, continuing down until he was deep inside. Then she began to slowly move up and down, tilting her hips forward and back. Walter was amazed at how the changing angles increased the sensation.

As Paige moved rhythmically, Walter matched her. With every thrust, the pressure built. He wanted this to last forever, but he didn't think he could take it much longer. Grasping Paige's hips with both hands, he begged her to stop moving for just a moment, and she complied.

His breathing was ragged. "I'm… I'm so close."

"Then let go."

"But you… " He looked up into her eyes, not sure if he was pleading for help or for release.

"I've been there. It's okay. Let go. I'll be right there with you."

She resumed her movements, but the slow pace she set was torture. Walter tried to lift her up and down faster, while he pumped his hips. He wanted to pound into her at top speed, but at the same time he wanted to savor the long, slow agonizing strokes. He was on the verge of flipping them over, so that he could increase the pace even more when Paige leaned back and braced her arms on the bed behind her. She began to pant and increased the speed of her movements. He felt the ripples of her orgasm surrounding him, and then he was exploding; intense pleasure pulsing through him until he stilled, unable to move.

* * *

Walter was still lying on his back. He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling, noting for the first time that, in fact, the ceiling was obscured by a filmy canopy of white, gauzy material. He noticed, too, that the television was advertising the merits of the various restaurants, the spa and other amenities of the hotel.

And he noticed that Paige was snuggled up beside him. He wasn't sure how she'd managed it, but he had one arm wrapped around her, hugging her close. There was a weight on one of his legs, which he assumed was hers. Beyond that, he didn't think he could feel much from the waist down. He was fairly sure he couldn't move his legs right now if his life depended on it. It was a bizarrely pleasant paralysis.

The next thing he noticed was that they were lying naked together on the bed, the sheets and duvet all pushed down to the end of the bed. He was sweaty, and the cool, conditioned air passing over him caused him to shiver slightly.

"Are you cold?" he asked. Resolving to make the super-human effort to reach for the duvet and cover them if she was.

She placed a kiss on his chest, and he could feel her lips curl up in a grin.

"I was just thinking, you brought me here to help me stay cool, and instead you got me all heated up!"

They both laughed, and Walter hugged her closer, kissing the top of her head. "So, what should we do tomorrow, Pretty Woman?"

 _ **The End**_

* * *

July 25, 2016


End file.
